I must admit, I never thought this case would be able to make it out of my notebook and onto this blog. However, after all the details that were accidentally released to the public, and the incredible skill Sherlock displayed capturing the Resurrected Ripper, leaving out this case would be a loss to the world.

After gaining the permission of Mycroft Holmes, and reviewing for several hours the Ripper file in Thoth's records, l think l can give you a complete account of what happened during this extraordinary and bloody case, except for a few points Mycroft has told me to keep silent about.

As usual, everything started at 221b Baker Street, where Sherlock and l were playing a game of Monopoly, the only game l even had a remote chance of winning against him. Intellect does not equal luck, which was a good thing for me, because l was beating Sherlock by a considerable amount.
Sherlock rolled the die. "11." He slid the game piece lazily, his fingers tensing as he landed on my property . . . again.
"That's Boardwalk. 1750, please." l held out my hand for the money. Sherlock crumpled the money into my hand.
"I don't want to play anymore. This game is stupid." He muttered. I shook my head.
"Just because you're losing doesn't mean you get to quit." l rolled the die. "Yes! Free Parking jackpot again!" l cheered, collecting the large pile of money from where Sherlock had gotten in Jail 13 times.

Sherlock crossed his arms sourly. "Technically, the jackpot isn't in the rules." He muttered, picking up the dice. However, he was saved further loss and humiliation at my hands when his cell phone rang.

"Aah, it's brother Mycroft!" He sat back, letting the phone ring a moment longer, just to annoy his brother.

Finally, he touched the button. "Hello?"

At the present, l didn't know what they had said in their short, tense conversation. But later, Sherlock told me that Mycroft had said 4 important, but unique, words.

"Daedalus. Thoth. It's important."

Sherlock's expression suddenly changed, his whole body tensing. He looked at me urgently, mouthing, get ready to go.

"Why? What's wrong?" He said into the phone, slipping off his pajamas as he walked into his bedroom.

"It's . . . The Ripper."